Epithalamium

Day rise naught tonight
Give the rising aubade no consort
For her pyre will scald away thee desires
A hard man’s labour wilt not devour thine zeal

Today we coalesce
The gray mare and her baron
Into an alliance of nuptial benediction

The torch of Hymen
Lights thine way to his temple
‘Tis to be a matron’s birth

Shed no tears
You
Coming squaws
Your time will come

The thoroughfare of passionate piety
‘Tis open to you
Dear mate to come old dowager
Thine eyes
My burgeoning Vesta
Art effulgent of dolor

Settle the pact
For all the world’s sake.

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